


Kalaurea

by Kapla_Quail



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Ableism, Alliance history, Angst, Backstory, Canon Disabled Character, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Keeler's past, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Slice of Life, legendary first couple, shady plan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23413498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kapla_Quail/pseuds/Kapla_Quail
Summary: Despite better knowledge, Keeler succumbed to Encke's urge to accompany him and the crew on shore leave.Idiots in love.And Isolde.
Relationships: Encke/Keeler (Starfighter), Keeler/Isolde, Keeler/Porthos (mentioned), Phobos/Porthos (Starfighter), Tristan/Isolde (mentioned)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starfighter is officially at its end, but I refuse to let go of my favourite space gays. There are so many loose ends to tie still, so many open questions and ungiven explanations. About Isolde I contemplated particularly much, that's why he'll make another appearance here.

The landing was unexpectedly hard. Either Encke had forgotten what landing on his home planet felt like, or the pilot was a rookie who still lacked the finesse of a superior navigator like the one Encke called his own. When the Lead Fighter loosened his iron grip around his armrest and opened his eyes, his first look went towards said man, pressed into his seat next to him, looking so ashen-pale a mortal fear squished Encke's heart.

“Keeler!”, he shouted over the noise of the roaring engines. “Are you okay?”

His fairy opened his eyes. “If this were one of my boys, I'd summon him for sim-training at once”, he grumbled. The Lead Navigator smirked, and Encke let out a long breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

The rocket was rolling along the tarmac more steadily now as the two men got up from their seats to address their recruits.

“Sons, we've now successfully reached earth”, Encke declared and was answered with merry cheers and applause. All those youthful faces beaming with relief and happiness, all those neighbours hugging each other were a pleasure to watch.

Encke and Keeler exchanged a smile, too, before the fighter went on. “For us that means: We're on shore leave. Almost, that is. A week of quarantine in the barracks awaits us, and I'll strongly advise you to take it slow. You don't have to prove yourself to anybody, not even to him here”, and he gestured towards Keeler who slapped his arm in response and acted offended. The recruits laughed.

“Jokes aside. When the doors open we'll be picked up by ground forces. Don't play the hero then, I'd rather you sit down in one of their fucking wheelchairs than compel your Lieutenant to carry passed-out idiots over the tarmac! Did I make myself clear?”

Keeler blushed and got ready to scuff Encke's arm again at that, which elicited more laughter and cheers from the recruits, shouting their 'Yes, sir'. Never had they expected the awing Lead Fighter to be this relaxed and funny! And their delighted sounds confirmed that they'd never snooker their reverenced Lead Navigator into the evoked situation, either.

“I have to take care of this one, now”, Encke went on joking, “So see yourself out, please, and think of the Alliance's rules concerning your behaviour. Dismissed, sons.”

The recruits removed their seatbelts and got up with stiff legs to grab their little kit bags while the vehicle came to a halt.

“Encke”, Keeler whispered, tearing his partner down at the sleeve, “What was this? Did you go bonkers? It's my part to brief them, you can't just...”

“Hush, hon”, Encke soothed. “Stay calm. We're on holidays.” And he turned Keeler around to slowly shove the defenseless man towards the hatch and the rocket's exit.


	2. Chapter 2

Keeler blinked when the blazing sunlight burnt his eyes, and he fingered his sunshield out of his luggage immediately. Encke steadied him by the arm, trying to discern who awaited them outside the rocket, but alas, he was blinded himself. Additionally, the heat and humidity of the planet made him break out in sweat, and he was more than relieved when a white-clad person bustled towards Keeler to wrap him into a solar protection scarf. Like a blind man, Keeler felt for the soldier, hiding his face under his raised arm and the scarf alike, and Encke still held him around the waist and wouldn't let go although he felt sick and dizzy himself.

“Lieutenant Keeler, Lieutenant Encke, welcome to earth, sir!”, the soldier exclaimed, extracting the blond from Encke's arms and helping him into a wheelchair he had brought. Only now Encke noticed how large their welcoming committee really was – the whole tarmac was lined with pretty, white Alliance members, some swaying Alliance-flags and singing the hymn, more wheelchairs on hand.

Encke stumbled a bit, but was confident he'd manage the walk towards the barracks. The tall blond who was shoving Keeler's wheelchair, however, paused immediately, and grabbed his arm.

“Sir, do you get along?”

Encke could have sworn he had seen this long, noble face and those widely spaced, watery eyes before. But where? Fucking mods, making all those navs look the same – all but his little flawed darling, valeted and veiled now like one of those antique Persian princesses.

One by one, the recruits descended from the rocket and mostly let themselves be wrapped up and wheeled away like their superior. Keeler gestured for his attendant to wait, wanting to check on every one of his boys. Encke understood his worry, but the sun above the tarmac burned down mercilessly on his skin, and he was happy when they finally made it to the adjacent barrack complex.

The blond who shoved Keeler's wheelchair bolted forward to key a door open that followed a ramp. When he returned, Keeler suddenly startled and reached to grab his wrist.

“Oh my mother, wait a second”, he gasped, tearing the sunshield from his face with his other hand. His eyes were wide with shock. “I-Isolde? Is that you?”

The blond smiled, transfigured. “That's my old task name, yes”, he said gently, taking Keeler's hand. “Now, I'm called Hyperion, and isn't that perfect? As my Diotima has left me forever...”

He didn't sound embittered nor angry, and his serene smile stayed on his features unchanged while he spoke. And now Encke recalled where he had seen this face before. It was on Keeler's datapad, when they had looked through pictures from the time before their assignment. Encke could remember a promotional photo of this navigator, long-haired back then, and his famous fighter - a tall, proud, shining couple, radiating superiority and mutual love. There was no doubt: the soldier standing in front of them now had been the first navigator to trigger the jump drive!

“Oh my mother”, Keeler repeated, his voice breaking. “Oh my...Hyperion, so you're still here? In the Alliance?”

The other man nodded and kept on smiling, squeezing Keeler's hand with affection. “Yes, sir. Somehow I just couldn't get away from it, it felt like the only thing that was still...dear to me, if that makes any sense.”

“It does”, Keeler breathed, and Encke knew that he was about to cry.

“Sir...dear Lieutenant Keeler”, Hyperion said tenderly, “I thought of you very often after I came back to earth, wondered what had become of you. Your compassion after Tristan's death meant a lot to me, and I'm glad I've got the chance to tell you this now, face to face. I'm glad to see you again.”

And Keeler, albeit covering his mouth with one hand, reached for the taller man with the other and pulled him down to hug him tight.

Encke just stood there, watching. This was a part of Keeler's life his partner had never entirely told him about. He had guessed by some comments that the death of the 'first fighter' had had a huge impact on the Lead Navigator. But seeing those two blonds hugging and crying on each other's shoulders led him to the conclusion that there must have been more about it than Keeler wanted to let anybody else know. Yet, Encke didn't feel hurt. Every soldier had to find his own way to stay sane during war. And often, the only possibility was blocking things out.


	3. Chapter 3

The atmosphere inside the quarantine barrack was adapted to the one on the Sleipnir. It was possible to walk, easier to breathe, and the burning sunlight was blocked out by darkened windows.

For the new arrivals, there was no welcoming meeting with the commanders on earth until the physical state of every new soldier had been thoroughly examined. Only especially protected staff was allowed to linger in the quarantine barracks, and so Keeler and Hyperion had to bid goodbye again soon, the taller navigator returning to his duty in the office building, Keeler looking after him sadly.

“Parked in insignificance, shunted aside. There he goes, the fleet's former pride, the man that flew like no pilot before him nor after him.”

Encke gently put a hand on his partner's shoulder. “You're coming pretty close, Keeler, believe me. And his past considered, he can be glad to sing small here at the airbase. He sounded as if he found his place and his peace, though. I'm sure you'll be able to talk in private at some point before we leave for Angola.”

The Sleipnir's navigators and fighters got allotted separately to four-man cabins. Keeler was billeted with his sergeant Puck, while Encke, without sergeant Artemis who dwelled on Mars, remained alone in a cabin next to his three earthly fighters on the other side of the building. After some refreshments in the mess hall, the medical officers summoned all soldiers into the examination rooms.

Everybody had to undress to their underwear, walk through the full body scanner, give a blood sample and breathe into a device. Fortunately, today's medicine provided results quickly, and the evaluation of the results was scheduled to take place the next day.

The recruits were used to these routine health checks. If they even felt anything about it, it was annoyance, but then, there was nothing much to do during the quarantine week anyway, so most of the boys lined up in the medical wing obediently.

For Keeler, however, matters were different. In space, he had managed to escape the regular health checks with the help of Puck. As a matter of fact, it wasn't difficult for a navigator to hack into the medical software, to exchange some names and measuring data here and there. Now on earth, however, Keeler had found no means to absent himself from the group of persons on leave he was responsible for. He had taken an extra heart pill with the faint hope to bring his parameters back to normal, but to speak the truth, he was nothing but afraid, and Encke and Puck knew it.

So when it was Keeler's turn, Puck conceded a reprimand from the MOs because he refused to let go of Keeler's hand and leave the room. Encke, waiting in the corridor, felt that he had never needed a cigarette so urgently in his life. How Keeler was capable of ascending his scaffold so calmly and gracefully was beyond him. But it had been he who had persuaded Keeler to go to earth with him in the first place, so it would also have to be him to find a solution should Keeler's condition be discovered. He had had enough days and restless hours to think about that.


	4. Chapter 4

When the night fell over the Alliance complex and the barracks, Encke was confronted with a problem he hadn't foreseen. Throwing himself round and round on his solitary bunk, he had to acknowledge eventually that he wasn't able to sleep – a state completely unknown to him from his year on the Sleipnir.

Of course, Encke was blaming the external circumstances first. Crammed into a interstellar rocket all day, he hadn't been able to burn off energy in the gyms like he used to. He missed the constant humming of the battleship, and his body had adapted to the vibrations and the somewhat unsteady floors up there in space. Also, the lightning and the quality of air was different here in the quarantine barracks, one couldn't ignore it.

After one hour of futile attempts to come to rest by listening to especially boring music and trying not to move a limb, Encke finally had to face the real, most crucial reason. Damn it. He was the Lead Fighter and not some pansy-ass navigator! Could one really become so accustomed to the presence of a certain cool body close to his, to fragrant hair to weave one's hands into, that one wasn't able to come to rest any more without it?

Turning around once more, Encke cursed aloud and tore the earphones out of his ears for good. To hell with Palestrina – he needed Keeler and he needed him now. But alas, he couldn't walk over to the navigators' rooms and abduct him like he wanted to. The navigator surely had been asleep for a long time already, exhausting as the transfer had been for him. And given the fact that that his whole career was on the rocks, keeping him awake for selfish reasons would be a really bad idea.

Just when Encke cursed again and pulled the blanket over his face, he heard someone fumble with the outside door panel. Jolting up, Encke caught sight of a ghostly white figure entering his room, shyly whispering, “Hi.”

Encke was amazed, but of course he didn't show that. “Keeler, what the hell? You can't just come over here, there are regulations!”, he barked.

The navigator had closed the door and approached Encke's bunk by now on naked feet. “Ah, Puck knows anyway, and he's not able to sleep either, yearning for Oberon and so on and so forth. So scoot over, will you?”

Encke grunted, but his inner self rejoiced about the familiar icy cold limbs intertwining with his. “Baby, fuck, when this comes out...”

“I was about to say that I'll be awake and back in my bunk before anyone will get suspicious. But other things will come out soon. And do you really think when the general outlook is dishonorable discharge, this rule breach will matter any more then? You know what is at stake for me, Encke. You always knew.”

Encke adjusted Keeler's tense body against his and snuggled his nose and lips close to the other man's face until their position felt perfectly familiar. Now that his love was here with him, the fighter felt tired immediately, but even that couldn't whitewash the guilt stinging inside him. He gulped and struggled to find the right words.

“Keeler, whatever happens... I told you, I'm not leaving you. I'm not going to let them hurt you, or take you back to that place. Don't puzzle your head over tomorrow.”

And he kissed Keeler's forehead, the root of his nose and his closed eyelids, trying to comfort his partner as best as he could.

“If they'll find out and kick you out, I'll follow. Because the truth is, I want to live with you openly, Keeler”, he eventually whispered. “Like a normal couple. We deserve it, we deserve to be together. That's what kept me going all the time.”

The fighter placed another tired kiss against Keeler's temple, stifling his yawn while the other man inhaled. “Now let's pretend this is our cabin on the Sleipnir, shall we? Just you and me. Hmmm”, he hummed. “Remember how you slept in my bunk for the first time? How you kissed me and said you wanted to do so since forever?”

Encke felt Keeler nod against his chest and squeezed his partner's shoulder, playing with his hair a little while doing so. “We lay together just like we're doing now. And we'll still do so for a long time, baby.”

“I love you, Keeler”, Encke said after what he thought was a minute. But he must have fallen asleep between his phrases, because Keeler was suddenly asleep in his arms, too. Peaceful and calm, the other man breathed quietly against the fighter's chest. So Encke sighed and let the cover of blissful sleep lower itself gently over him.


	5. Chapter 5

Outside the medical examination room, twenty-five navigators and four fighters were sitting alongthe walls on brightly coloured plastic chairs, waiting patiently for their turn to be called inside. Next to Keeler sat the loyal Puck again, trying to evaluate some statistics with the Lieutenant but not getting more than monosyllabic answers from the otherwise so assiduous and cheery man. He was pale and his hands trembled, too. Puck knew too well why.

In the moment, though, it was Encke's turn. Encke knew he was in good physical shape, so he wasn't astonished to hear his results.

“You're fine and can go now, sir”, the MO assessed. “Please send your navigator in. He's next for the evaluation.”

And that was it. That was the moment Encke had feared so much since the transfer that he almost couldn't remember what had happened in the hours he had spent on earth until now. Today, he had worked out for hours just to keep his thoughts from drifting, to blot this moment out until the last second. And still, facing the situation now, he was plainly and simply afraid.

The MO, a short, heavily built earthling in a white coat, didn't notice it at first, staring down on his datapad, scrolling. When he looked up and found Encke still lingering in the room, however, his questioning look couldn't conceal how uneasy he felt in the fighter's presence.

“Sir?”

Encke's face didn't show what was going on inside him, but his voice trembled slightly when he answered. “Officer, I'm sure Lieutenant Keeler is, uh, aware of what his test results show. Don't you agree we should spare him the agitation of being confronted with them, again?”

The young MO stared at the Lead Fighter in blank astonishment. “Sir, I don't know if I'm sure what you're talking about. If I may speak the truth, the irregularities in his scans are no fleabites. There are some alarming values showing in his blood and in his heart scan and we have to find out the reason. Otherwise I can't discharge your navigator from quarantine.”

Encke uttered a painful groan when he stepped closer. “There's no need to bother him with that, officer. If you want an explanation, I can give you one as well.”

The MO stopped short. “Sir...?”

Encke knew he looked intimidating and tried his best to speak calmly and considerately, like when dealing with navigators, not fighters. “Listen, officer. Lieutenant Keeler has a heart failure class III. He's had several surgeries in his childhood to correct congenital deformities, and he's on permanent medication, too, which could be responsible for his blood values.”

The MO went pale and started stammering. “Surgeries...in his childhood? But he's a navigator, he's supposed to be purebred, and modified! If he was born with this condition, that means... Sir, are you telling me your navigator is _flawed_?”

Encke inhaled sharply and ground his teeth to keep himself from getting abusive. “Don't you _ever_ call him that”, he growled, and this time the menace was intended. “Ever. This man is not flawed. He's perfect. Do you understand me? He may have a frail heart, but he's fucking perfect!”

Encke had stepped closer to the other man while speaking, staring the MO down. But strangely, the other man didn't back off. Instead, he became so agitated himself he couldn't keep his voice down.

“Sir! This is no matter of expressions! You know all that – he knows all that – and yet you've been flying together? That's perilous! He's not only endangering his own life, sir, but yours and that of the whole crew as well!”

“Officer”, Encke said, struggling to remain calm but failing now, “I'll tell you something. This man you're condemning is the best pilot of the Alliance. He got promoted to Lead Navigator right from the school desk, because he is a born leader: brave to the extreme, loyal and leading the way no matter how dangerous the situation. He brought me home from hazardous missions _every day_ , saved me from mortal danger more times than I can count. There was not one situation, not a single one, in which he endangered my life. Do you understand me? Not a single one. He was the one that _kept_ me alive!”

Encke stared the Medical Officer into the wide, disbelieving eyes. But there was no startled yelp, no lecture. The young doctor just stared back at Encke as if he was a ghost for some long moments.

The MO had never heard a fighter talk more than some syllables, and he had never met one that cared for his navigator the way Encke did. Granted, some of the pairs were an item, everyone knew that and it was condoned. But something about the way Encke defended his sick partner caused the MO's deep sympathy and eventually made him drop his reservations.

Very quietly, he asked: “Do you know what kind of medication he takes, sir?”

Encke was slightly irritated. “Prunarenon 50 mg, Wasapril 5 mg twice a day, Adabradin 7.5 mg twice a day”, he reeled off.

The officer's mouth dropped open for a second before he got himself under control again. “You...you know all that?”

Encke was so fed up with the usual notion of fighters as being dumb as a stump, he couldn't suppress an annoyed exhalation. When the officer went on, the fighter nevertheless was surprised by his question: “Did someone ever check if those agents and dosages are compatible with each other and adapted to his body weight?”

The fighter stared, then slowly shook his head. The other man scrolled on his datapad and made some notes. “All right, sir. I'll check on that and get back to you as quickly as I can. I don't want to raise your hopes, I'm no cardiologist and I certainly won't be able to do miracles. But we can at least check for interactions.” And he smiled up to Encke shyly, but surprisingly warmly and cordially.

Encke hadn't expected their talk to go that way. He had been secretly prepared to lose his partner due to this confounded routine health check, also he had been determined to fight until the last moment to keep his secret a secret. And now, suddenly, there was nothing to fight about...

Encke rarely smiled in public, but he gave the small MO the kindest look he was capable of right now. “That's...very nice of you, officer”, he said.

But the other had already turned to display Ethos' health parameters on the screen.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later, with Puck doing yoga in the gym and the other navis spread throughout the barracks, Keeler was sitting in his dorm, hunched over his datapad. Although he was on shore leave, for him that didn't mean he had no obligations. The Sleipnir was still under his responsibility, and from the dry dock on Uranus where it currently lay, chief technician Oenanthe sent the Lieutenant charts with data and lots of messages about its current state every day.

Absorbed in the blueprint he had currently opened on his screen, Keeler didn't notice it immediately when the door opened and someone entered the room. When he turned with a start, he perceived that this person was no other than Hyperion.

Clad in a white dress uniform, the tall blond knocked at the doorframe and then slowly approached the Lieutenant. “Mother be with you“, he saluted.

“Hyperion! Oh, at ease, please. Come forward, have a seat.“

“Please excuse my intrusion in your private lodgings, sir. Your secretary told me where to find you.“

“You're more than welcome, Hyperion, you should know that.“

The long-haired man cordially smiled at his counterpart, who smiled back a little shyly and fumbled with a strand of his formerly likewise abundant hair.

“How is your work coming along, sir? Is the Sleipnir in good shape?“

“Oh, she's not exactly ready for combat right now. The techs took all the engines apart for a cleaning and the hull needs to be repaired. But apart from that, nothing much has changed from the time when you knew her.“

The older man sighed. “I don't exactly miss that time, but she always...was a beautiful ship. As was the Reliant.”

Now Keeler sighed, and he couldn't help but place a hand on the other man's that lay on the table.

“I don't know if I'm afraid or curious to ask, sir... What about the equipment of the starfighters, the 'special device'? I heard rumours about you having a few teams potentially capable of using it, a 'second Reliant' even...”

Keeler pressed his mouth firmly closed and gave Hyperion's hand a squeeze. “Come on, my friend. We can't talk calmly here, not about these matters. What about we go for a walk under the porch?”

“Oh, have you adapted to the sun enough to venture this? You look so fair, sir.“

“I've been outdoors with the boys for two days“, Keeler said in rising from his chair, “and if we avoid direct sunlight, we all tolerate it pretty well now.“ He grabbed his datapad and stuffed it into his pocket before turning towards the door, gesturing at Hyperion to follow him.

On their way out, the navigators that populated the corridors stepped aside and saluted them respectfully. When they had almost reached the exit door, however, they stumbled upon Phobos and Porthos, kissing in an alcove, utterly self-forgotten. Noticing their leader, albeit late, they disentangled with a start, and although they looked somewhat guilty and fearing a reprimand, they didn't explain or excuse themselves.

Keeler scrutinized Phobos more in surprise than in anger. With his flushed cheeks, his slightly messed up hair and a certain sparkle in his eyes, the boy looked so saucy and worth desiring, there was no doubt why Porthos had fallen for him, the most handsome navigator of the crew. For a second, Keeler's glance met Porthos', who looked caught, but equally impenitent. Keeler remembered the time when he had been the one to ruffle his short hair, to melt into his strong embrace. Seeing him with the prince of the fleet now, however, Keeler didn't feel anything, no sting in his heart, no sweaty palms. Whatever they had had, the flame was long smothered.

Keeler planned to look the other way for the couple. Their public affection was inappropriate, but could they be blamed in a place where there was nowhere to go and nothing much else to distract themselves? Keeler was tired of reprimanding recruits. And he knew from their records they were going to spend their shore leave separatefor some reason, one in France, the other in Poland.

“My room is currently empty”, he said dryly, matter-of-factly. “It has two unused beds and the door locks with 'C'.” With a gesture of his head, he dismissed the two. The flabbergasted blonds quickly absconded in the corridor.

After this, Keeler left the barracks at Hyperion's side calmly. The taller man smirked to himself. He carefully guided Keeler around the corner and past a well-trimmed lawn with a few flagpoles and a fence at the end. Alliance banners were weaving over their heads in the blue sky where some seagulls made their circles.

Keeler protected his eyes with his hands when he dared to look up. There was a breeze coming from the sea, salty and wild, feeling so good on his skin and setting his hair a-flowing.

He inhaled.

Earth.

“Sir, I'm expected to give you something from MO Parus”, Hyperion suddenly said in a low voice when they had entered the porch, producing a small paper bag from his pocket. Keeler's bright eyes went wide as he looked up to the former ace pilot.

With an encouraging gesture, Hyperion put the bag in Keeler's hands. The Lieutenant opened it carefully, surprised to find blisters with pills and a handwritten note. Keeler read it, then looked at Hyperion quizzically.

“'...And that's why I'd suggest replacing the Wasapril with Aladipin 15 mg per day.' You... _know_ about this?”, he asked incredulously.

Hyperion nodded. “I work in the administration, Parus is reporting to me. We agreed to help you. Unlike command, we're of the opinion that your many credits outweigh such...irregularities.”

Keeler exhaled in a mixture of relief and shock. He hadn't expected this. When the MO hadn't called him in for the evaluation of his results he had been sure this could only mean he had been reported to command... Keeler inhaled too late, his heartbeat stumbled and he reached to steady himself on Hyperion's arm when his strength suddenly failed him. In the same moment, the taller man stepped closer to catch him, and what started as support ended in a tender embrace when suddenly their faces drew closer than ever and their lips touched.

There was no straightforwardness in Hyperion's action, and just like everything he did or said, this accidental kiss, too, seemed overshadowed with sadness. But there was a mutual attraction between the two navigators that had become apparent, impossible to resist even, and Keeler sighed when he shifted a little to slide a hand around Hyperion's back, opening his lips more to make the kiss one worthy of that name.

It was a moment of wonderful, unexpected intimacy - at least as surprising as Hyperion covering Keeler's secret. When their lips disengaged, both men just looked at each other for some seconds with a changed view. Hyperion was the first to break the silence that then ensued.

“Since what happened on the Sleipnir, since the moment Cook laid hands on me, tried to take advantage of me, I knew that you were the only one up there who acted kind, _humane_. If it hadn't been for your objection, sir, I would not have gotten the chance to find this obscure work here at port. So if it's in my power now to do something to reciprocate what you did for me, you can be sure I will.”

Keeler felt so deeply touched, he rose on tiptoes eagerly to draw the other into one more kiss. But the elder navigator turned to the side a little and moved his lips over Keeler's cheek and close to his ear instead, nuzzling his nose into the little blond's fine, slightly sun-warmed hair.

“You achieve excellent scores with the Lead Fighter”, he mumbled. “I know what this means, sir, and I don't dare...”

Keeler smiled silently and leaned into the other man's caress, embracing him tighter. “This is no matter of property”, he explained, smiling. “Not in our case. I love him. He loves me. They didn't have to force us into this bond, it came naturally when we slowly learned to trust each other. Encke is not the typical fighter. We both are...on equal footing.”

Keeler blushed a little when he added: “You see... That's another of my secrets to keep.”

Hyperion caressed his cheek. “It's safe with me, Lieutenant.”

And both men remained standing together a while longer, smiling and musing about their fates that were so different, and yet so quintessentially the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you on_the_wing for helping me with this story!


End file.
